


Kinktober 2019

by Dracoduceus



Series: Prompt Collections [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Deadlock McCree, Dirty Talk, Hate Sex, M/M, Magic, Minotaur McCree, Miscommunication, Nipple Clamps, Rabbit shifter Hanzo, Rough Oral Sex, Scion Hanzo, Sea Monster Hanzo, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Size Queen Jesse McCree, Tentacle Sex, Teratophilia, Trans!Hanzo Shimada, marine biologist McCree, more tentacles, see chapter notes - Freeform, unexpected courtship, young mchanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-12-09 15:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20997005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: A collection of prompts from Kinktober.





	1. Hate Sex

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings**: young McHanzo, hate sex, Deadlock McCree, Scion Hanzo, dirty talk

“Ain’t your pretty little whore for you to show off,” Jesse McCree sneered. 

“No,” Hanzo replied lazily, not even bothering to look at the gang member assigned to accompany him around the Gorge. If there was such a thing as Hell on Earth, he thought that this awful desert might just be it. 

The heat was like a punch in the gut and there was sand _everywhere_. 

“No, you’re far from ‘pretty’,” Hanzo continued, still looking out over the gorge, at the dots that were the Deadlock Gang scuttling like busy little ants between buildings. He knew it pissed off McCree, especially since he knew that Hanzo was doing it on purpose. “I _would_ call you a whore, though.” 

Hanzo smirked when he heard the gunslinger’s low growl. “You’re lucky, Shimada,” he snarled. 

“You flatter yourself,” Hanzo replied, turning so McCree could see his smirk. “I’m sure that you’re not _that_ good.” 

McCree took two enormous steps closer to him and Hanzo still didn’t look away from observing the workings of the Deadlock Gang. For one, if McCree wanted to hurt him, he would have used his gun; for the other, he knew that it would piss the gunslinger off even more that he showed no fear at his approach. 

“You think you’re all fucking that,” McCree snarled, bringing his face close enough to Hanzo’s that he could smell the ever-present sand on his skin, could smell sweat and the stale smoke from his last cheap cigarette. “Comin’ up here like fucking God’s gift to Earth. I got news for you, _Shimada_. Down here, you’re just another body to feed the Gorge.” 

Hanzo hummed. “So you’re turning down my offer?” he asked as if it didn’t matter to him. It didn’t—Hanzo certainly could get any other willing body and the night he offered McCree was simply an indulgence and nothing more—but he knew that it would rile the gunslinger up even more. 

“Don’t think I don’t fucking know what game you’re playing, _Shimada_,” McCree sneered. “You want me angry? You got me fucking angry. Now what? Did you want me to bend you over and fuck you where anyone can look up and see?” 

“Hardly,” Hanzo scoffed, though his stomach twisted at the thought. 

McCree took a step closer, slipped behind Hanzo and put his hands boldly on Hanzo’s hips. He could feel McCree’s grin as he ostensibly sniffed. “Smell that? Still nice and fresh even after a hard day’s work—only you ain’t did none, did you? Just stood on the side and watched us all.”

“Is there a point to this?” Hanzo asked, affecting boredom. In reality he was hyper focused on the hand pressed against his belly, the rough calluses catching on the fine silk of his waistcoat. 

Behind him, McCree chuckled. “Just that you call _me_ the whore and yet you smell sweet and perfumed.” He sniffed again, pressing his body against Hanzo’s back. One of his hands slid down Hanzo’s front, his rough skin catching again on the silk of his waistcoat, the fine embroideries. “I knew it,” McCree said, smug, as he cupped Hanzo’s half-hard cock. “You _like_ this.” 

McCree rocked his hips against Hanzo’s lower back, letting Hanzo feel his own erection. 

He’s not sure what happened, it feels like he’s blacked out for a moment, but the next thing he knows he’s being bent over one of the rocky bluffs nearby, McCree’s shawl draped over the stone. A corner of it was shoved in Hanzo’s mouth—_don’t want your screamin’ to attract any attention now, what would Deadlock think if they see you bendin’ over for a good dickin’?_—and Hanzo’s hands were held behind his back by one of McCree’s. 

McCree’s using his other hand to open him up roughly, using a packet of lube that he had found in one of his pouches. Three fingers were spreading him wide, fucking into him roughly. 

When Hanzo felt another finger wiggling in, he groaned, bucking his hips. 

“Ain’t small, sweet,” McCree laughed. “Gotta make sure I don’t break our pretty little chaperone, huh?” He crooked his fingers. “Or maybe I should. Break you open and show you off to Deadlock, huh? See where our pretty little chaperone likes to be? Held down and fucked.” 

McCree pulled his fingers out and Hanzo could hear him fumbling behind him, could hear the click of his stupid belt, the rasp of his zipper. He hissed as well as he could around the mouthful of dusty cloth when McCree slapped his cock against his ass. 

“You’re gonna look so pretty spread out on my cock, baby,” McCree growled, rubbing the tip of his cock against Hanzo’s hole, nearly pressing in before letting his cock slip out and away. 

Growling, Hanzo tried to buck back, grinding his teeth into the dirty cloth stuffed in it. He pulled on the hand holding his wrists. Neither of them deluded themselves to think that McCree could hold Hanzo like that if he _really_ wanted to get out. 

McCree laughed meanly. “Alright, I hear ya, Pumpkin. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

It was a good thing that McCree’s dirty cape was shoved in his mouth or the entire Gorge would be ringing with the sound he made when McCree slid in impossibly deep. Hanzo shuddered, twitching at the enormous stretch. 

So McCree had not been all bravado. 

McCree immediately started rocking his hips his free hand coming up to grind Hanzo’s face into his dirty cape. Then his fingers, still sticky with lube, tangled in Hanzo’s short hair and yanked his head back. With one of his legs, he kicked Hanzo’s thighs wider, making him rest all of his weight on the rock—and slide back on McCree’s cock. 

“Better be quiet,” McCree grunted when Hanzo made a high sound at the added stretch, at the rough, furious pace that McCree had set. Tomorrow, he would be aching, would certainly be walking strangely from a combination of McCree’s size and from not using enough lube. 

Hanzo gritted his teeth as McCree yanked his head back even farther, forced him to arch his back. His neck would ache later as well, as would his shoulders from being wrenched around like this. 

“Think they can see you?” McCree asked, pressing his body down over Hanzo’s. “Don’t be too loud now, sweet.” He grunted, fucking harder into Hanzo. “Don’t want this dirty gang to know, mm?” 

McCree swore, grinding his cock hard into Hanzo. His sheer girth meant that Hanzo’s prostate was constantly teased, sending sparks shooting through him, pain and euphoria combined. 

“Maybe they’ll take a turn with you,” McCree laughed. “I’d pay to see that. Glad I got first crack at it.” He grunted, bucked deeper again once, twice, and then Hanzo felt heat flooding him, filling him up as McCree groaned. 

Hanzo snarled, struggled as McCree laughed. He pulled out, his softening cock making a wet, lewd sound. Almost immediately come began to slip out, dripping in ticklish lines down the back of Hanzo’s thighs, along his balls which were drawn up. He had been so close…

“Ain’t that a sight,” McCree laughed. He released the hand in Hanzo’s hair and used that hand to shove a few fingers into Hanzo’s sloppy hole. More come bubbled out around them sliding down to stain Hanzo’s dark slacks. 

Working his mouth, Hanzo managed to spit out his makeshift gag. “Release me,” he demanded. 

McCree laughed again, wiggling another finger in. They met wet noises as McCree thrust them roughly into Hanzo again and again and again. “Ain’t don’t with you just yet. Shame you can talk now, but only for you. Bet’cha I can make you scream.” 


	2. Telepathic Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: telepathic soulmates. True soulmates have a telepathic bond where they can transfer emotions...and sometimes, physical sensation. Or...
> 
> Business meeting? Not anymore. Your soulmate is horny and fantasizing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning:** semi-public sex, anal fingering, sex toys, nipple clamps, soulmates AU

“You sure you’ve got it?” Hanzo asked for the third time.

McCree huffed, trying hard not to be annoyed. He knew that Hanzo was simply very invested in this endeavor and wanted things to go well. A part of Hanzo was going crazy, fighting the urge to try to take over—but McCree was the lead and he respected that enough to reluctantly take a step back. 

As annoying as his hovering sometimes was, McCree could understand. If Hanzo was a lead on a mission involving Deadlock, McCree would be an insufferable mess, too. 

When he turned to look at Hanzo, he found his soulmate smiling—Hanzo had been _teasing_ him. “You little shit,” he growled playfully, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“I am,” Hanzo agreed, tugging McCree closer. “Are you sure that you need to leave right now?” 

McCree laughed and kissed him once more before stepping back. “Yes, or I’ll be late.” 

“You’ll be _early_,” Hanzo gumbled. “More than half an hour early.” 

Still laughing, McCree moving toward the door. “I gotta make sure everything’s in place,” he reminded Hanzo. “Make sure I’m ready.” 

Hanzo scowled at him. “Fine,” he growled. McCree blew him a kiss and ducked out of their room, straightening his tie. 

He should have known that that hadn’t been the end of it. How long had he known Hanzo? How long had they been together? 

He should have known that teasing Hanzo like that would not work. 

At first it was a trickle of thought, like a gentle breeze on the skin. But he was used to ignoring such things—he and Hanzo had been fully-bonded soulmates for a few years by now and were used to the wisps of thought that hopped between them on occasion. 

Then he “heard” another thought as he was starting his presentation. _Wish you were here_, Hanzo said without words. _But you look good in that suit_. McCree smiled, winked at one of the cameras whose light was on and hoped that Hanzo could see it. 

The next thing that came through the bond wasn’t a thought at all, but a feeling—like hands running down the front of his chest. They lingered on his nipples, pinching and twisting them. Since he wasn’t as sensitive, he knew that it was Hanzo that was touching himself and suddenly knew what his game—and his revenge—was. 

_Honey_, he protested quietly, pausing to take a sip of his water. 

But he couldn’t pause his presentation and say that they had to stop because his soulmate was horny. So, he continued—and so did Hanzo. 

Dull points of pain—a most wonderful kind of sting—attached themselves to his nipples and he tried not to groan out loud. Hanzo had to be a very special kind of mood to use the nipple clamps. 

_Are you using the weights?_ He thought before he could stop himself. 

On the other end of the bond, he could feel Hanzo’s amusement. _Maybe I will_.

He was _so_ fucked. 

Hanzo waited until he had calmed down again, got absorbed in his presentation once more, before he acted again. McCree was glad that he was standing behind a pedestal for his talk or the world would see the way that the front of his slacks bulged, the way that his legs shifted wider as if to accommodate the phantom fingers circling his hole. 

_Darlin’, you ain’t playing fair_. He could feel Hanzo’s smile as if it were on his own face. 

_I _asked_ you if you were sure that you had to leave early_, Hanzo pointed out. 

McCree smiled to his audience and took another sip of water to hide the way his breath hitched as Hanzo slid oh so slowly down one of their toys. _You couldn’t wait?_ McCree asked halfheartedly, already knowing the answer. 

_The dragon hungers_, Hanzo replied with more than a little amusement. 

Swallowing hard, McCree sent back the sensation of the arousal burning low in him. Two could play at that game. In the end he knew he’d lose—it didn’t matter that he would of course maintain his composure with great difficulty through this presentation; Hanzo _always_ won in games like these. 

Still, he wouldn’t have it any other way and it would only make their reunion two hours later all the more enjoyable.


	3. Strap-On Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Trans!Hanzo and Jesse shopping for/using a strap on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Pastel Darklord](https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/34960985?show_comments=true).
> 
> **Warnings:** trans!Hanzo, magic, tentacles, size queen Jesse

“I have a surprise for you,” Hanzo whispered, draping himself over Jesse’s shoulders. He ran his fingers teasingly over Jesse’s chest and pressed his lips against his ear. “For your birthday.”

Jesse leaned back, resting his head against Hanzo’s shoulder. “The way you say it, it sounds like something dirty,” he teased. 

“Perhaps it is,” Hanzo said, ducking his head to press a kiss to Jesse’s ear. Laughing, Jesse twisted out of his loose hold and looked up at his boyfriend. 

Immediately Hanzo took the opportunity to climb in his lap, much to the protest of the creaky office chair he sat in. Before Jesse could warn him about the chair, Hanzo leaned down and kissed him deeply, making him groan. 

It wasn’t fair how easily Hanzo could distract him and how easy it was to turn him on. 

Hanzo pulled away and slid out of his lap. “Don’t be late,” he whispered with a grin and a wink. “After your shift. Meet me on the docks, by the moon pool.” 

The “moon pool” was what Jesse called a small section of the lake that Hanzo had sectioned off with painted stones. Hanzo used it for certain kinds of magics, including the portals that he opened to places that Jesse had no name for. 

Especially since Hanzo didn’t appreciate Jesse calling it the “Floo Network” and their adventures “traveling to Diagon Alley”. 

He licked his lips. “Yeah?” he asked. 

Hanzo grinned and winked at him again. 

* * *

“I like this one,” Hanzo said conversationally. “I think you made a good choice. What do you think?”

“Guh,” Jesse offered as Hanzo rocked his hips forward and then swiveled them. 

Hanzo chuckled. “I had hoped you might like it,” he murmured. “I’m glad you got to pick something out that you like...and I must say, I love this look on you.” 

He had taken Jesse to a very particular shop. To say that it sold “novelties” was almost an insult—and calling it merely a sex shop did it no justice. The pretentious may call it “artisan goods” but no matter how any euphemisms were used or arguments of poor wording, it was, in all intents and purposes, a magic sex shop that allowed Jesse to purchase a new dildo for Hanzo’s strap-on. 

At first it had been rather nondescript toy in a nondescript box. Surrounding the pedestal had been pictures against a black velvet background. The color was the same but in each picture, the shape and size of the dildo pictured was different. In one it was as big around as a soda can (and there was a can in the picture to prove it); in another, it was longer and thinner with a tapered tip and a fat bulge at the bottom. 

Something about it had immediately drawn Jesse to it. He had been so much more excited about it when the shopkeeper had shown him how to work it—and when he had learned that magic wasn’t required to use it. 

Very slowly Hanzo pulled back, watching the bulges and ridges of the toy pop out one by one. Already Jesse’s hole was _wrecked_ but judging by the way that Jesse lay in the tentacles that held him in place, he had no complaints. 

“Happy birthday, my love,” Hanzo breathed, putting both hands on Jesse’s ass to hold him open. He licked his lips, catching a thick drop of lube that began sliding down his perineum. 

He took a step back and smiled as a tentacle curled up Jesse’s leg and poked curiously at his hole. Jesse whined and shuddered, wiggling his hips back into its touch. 

Hanzo moved around to Jesse’s front, running his fingers over Jesse’s bare, sweaty back. “Go on,” he told the tentacle, as if he wasn’t in control of it. “Can’t you see how empty he feels?” 

Shuddering, Jesse bucked and arched as the tentacle slipped the very tip into him. Hanzo knelt next to Jesse’s head and cupped his cheek. His eyes were watery and his lips and chin were slick with spit. 

Jesse stared up at him with hazy eyes and Hanzo smiled. “I love seeing you so happy,” he murmured, leaning down to catch Jesse’s lips in a kiss. “Happy birthday my love.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jesse followed him as he got to his feet. 

“Don’t worry,” Hanzo told him with a laugh. “I’ll give you more. Maybe move the size of this up a notch. Would you like that?” 

He looked down between Jesse’s legs where he was hanging hard and dripping, prevented from coming by the tentacle wrapped around the base of his cock. 

“Anything for you, my love,” Hanzo promised. “I know how much you love being stretched out.” 

“Fuck,” Jesse swore.

Hanzo laughed. “I will, don’t worry.” He moved behind Jesse and rubbed the tip of his cock against Jesse’s stretched hole. The tentacle there wiggled as if indignant. “Or maybe we’ll just fuck you together.” 

Beneath him, Jesse shuddered and Hanzo scaled back the size of the dildo so that the tentacle could curl and twist around it. 

“Fuck,” Jesse said again and Hanzo paused since he didn’t seem to be done. He adjusted his stance and Hanzo made sure that the tentacles moved to accommodate him, to allow him to be more comfortable. “Best birthday _ever_.” 

Grinning, Hanzo pushed in once more. 


	4. Magical Bondage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: magical bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** rimming, werewolf Hanzo, magician McCree, bondage, under-discussed kink

“I got a new set of ropes,” McCree said casually was he ran his hands up and down the muscular planes of Hanzo’s back. 

Hanzo’s eyes, half-closed in lazy pleasure, opened fully. “Oh?” he asked, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. “Do you not have enough?” Then he grinned, his long teeth flashing. 

“Ha ha,” McCree said sarcastically. “Very funny.” 

Every time he got a new set of ropes, Hanzo broke them. He seemed to find it hilarious to wait until McCree had got him settled and had been lulled into a false sense of security. Then, when McCree would continue to deny him what he wanted, the bastard would shift, break the ropes, and take what he wanted.

He was an utter brat and McCree wouldn’t have it any other way...even if he _would_ like to get through the night with his ropes intact. 

“If you _must_ know,” McCree grumbled, not even bothering to pretend to be upset. Hanzo would see right through it. “No, I do not have enough. I ordered this special, with you in mind.” 

Hanzo looked a lot more interested. “Oh?” he asked. 

“Do you want to see it?” McCree asked slyly, even though he knew the answer. He wanted to hear Hanzo say it. “Do you want to be in ropes tonight?” 

He was pleased that Hanzo did nothing to hide his eagerness. “Yes,” he told McCree immediately. Then he grinned, baring his sharp teeth. “I can’t wait to ruin another set.” 

McCree rolled his eyes and went to fetch the new rope, showing it off to Hanzo. It was a lovely shade of dark blue with a faint metallic shine and he could see Hanzo’s surprise when he found how soft it was. 

Admittedly, McCree had thought the same when he first saw the rope in person. Sometimes when metallic shades were used, the rope became rougher. Perhaps this time there was simply a special treatment to keep it soft and smooth; it wouldn’t give Hanzo’s lovely skin rope burn...and the shopkeeper had insisted that it was treated against that as well.

Perhaps they would test that tonight. 

“Now,” Hanzo insisted. A faint cover of fur was beginning to sprout over his body in his impatience. 

McCree laughed and let the coil unfold in his hands. Then he whistled just to annoy Hanzo, the spell traveling through his lips with the sound. Immediately the rope snaked around Hanzo’s legs. It climbed, snake-like, up to loop around his waist. 

Leaning close, McCree kissed him, distracting Hanzo while the ropes followed the image in McCree’s mind. It snaked between his legs, beneath the swell of his ass and McCree smiled at the breathy noises that Hanzo made as the rope tickled the sensitive skin along his ass and inner thighs.

The rope slipped upward and McCree moved Hanzo’s hands to his hips, jutting his elbows back so that the ropes could catch them. Hanzo shuddered, gasping into McCree’s kiss. 

McCree mouthed at Hanzo’s throat as he tipped his head back. The ropes looped over his shoulders and over his chest, looped and twisted and twined around each other. It made Hanzo arch his back and McCree wasted no time in thumbing at Hanzo’s nipples just to watch his jaw clench as he struggled to swallow his breathy gasps and groans. 

At last the spell ended, the last rope settling in place. McCree enjoyed laying the ropes himself, but it was rare that Hanzo was in the mood to sit still. It was just as well, since Hanzo’s impatience was sometimes infectious. 

“You ready, sweet?” McCree asked, swallowing hard. He eased Hanzo to lay face-down on the bed, his legs splayed. 

Hanzo snarled over his shoulder. Fur was moving in waves over his body as Hanzo lost control over his form and then regained it again. McCree smiled and ran a hand over Hanzo’s hips and flanks. 

Before Hanzo could complain again, McCree leaned close and split the globes of Hanzo’s ass to press a filthy kiss to his hole. Hanzo must have been about to say something because his voice jumped into a yowl.

McCree grinned to himself and focused on working his tongue into Hanzo’s ass, swirling the pointed tip around and around. Hanzo bucked, shoving his hips back toward McCree in a silent demand for more. 

Humming, McCree could feel the exact moment that Hanzo became too frustrated with his slow pace. His boyfriend’s body _flexed_ as he prepared to rip out of the ropes...only to be held back. 

He tried again and again and McCree leaned back to watch as hints of silver flashed over the ropes. The ropes, expensive as they were with the hints of silver woven in, were worth every penny.

“You’re a brat,” McCree teased when Hanzo growled at him. “And I’m sick of you ruining my ropes. But you say the word and you know I’ll whistle you out of it.” he waited and Hanzo snarled again. “What’s your color?”

Hanzo fought the ropes again, fur washing over his skin before disappearing like waves on the shore. Then he whined, his voice high and canine. 

“Use your words,” McCree told him. “What’s your color?” 

He saw the ridges of Hanzo’s spine moved and eased the rope aside for Hanzo’s tail to form. It immediately curled between his legs. McCree moved to look at Hanzo’s face and was relieved to see that he didn’t look scared or upset, just unsure. This was certainly one of the first times—if not _the_ first time—that Hanzo would truly submit to McCree. 

McCree was just pursing his lips two whistle Hanzo out of the ropes when Hanzo said very quietly, “Green.” 

“Are you sure?” McCree pressed, eyes on the slump of Hanzo’s shoulders, the curl of his tail between his legs. 

Ears appeared on Hanzo’s head and immediately pinned back in annoyance. “Yes,” he snarled. 

“Brat,” McCree said fondly, running his knuckles along Hanzo’s cheek as his ears returned to their human form. 

Hanzo bared his teeth. “Get on with it.” 

“You act like you don’t like it,” McCree laughed. “But don’t worry, I hear ya pumpkin.” He climbed back in place behind Hanzo and eased Hanzo’s tail aside. “Open up,” he coaxed. 

“Filthy,” Hanzo grumbled as if he hadn’t been so eager for it earlier. 

As if his tail didn’t immediately lift to make room for McCree. 

Laughing, McCree leaned in close again. “You love it.” He didn’t give Hanzo any time to complain or try to deny it. Not that he would with McCree giving him exactly what he asked for.


	5. Sea Monster Body Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: sea monster body horror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings**: teratophilia, monstrous anatomy, sea monster Hanzo, marine biologist McCree, miscommunication, accidental courtship, some dubious consent
> 
> Note: There is no communication between McCree and Hanzo before they have their fun, nor is there any communication between them afterwards. While they both enjoy themselves, there is no explicit consent given.
> 
> Hanzo's design is based off of [this art](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1181697198909726722) by [IchigoWhiskey](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey).

It had taken weeks to get the creature accustomed to him. 

Weeks of patience, of leaving behind offerings of fish and seafood. And that was only to get the creature to let him  _ approach _ without him swimming away. He was surprisingly fast and coupled with the paralytic “ink” he spilled when spooked, there was no catching him if he decided that he was done with their interactions. 

But McCree’s patience paid off at long last. The creature, who in a rare fit of cooperation consented to speak with McCree above the waves to indicate that his name was Hanzo, allowed him close enough to touch. 

First it was the very tips of his long silver-white “hair”. Truthfully, McCree should have been more careful, as they reminded him of the tendrils of jellyfish. Fortunately they didn’t seem to be stinging ones (or at least their toxins couldn’t get through McCree’s dive gloves). 

The next time, Hanzo moved close enough that the white-gold nubs of his tail were a hair away from brushing against McCree’s arm. He was warier this time, nervous of the potential for neurotoxins in Hanzo’s beautiful spines.. 

It was during the third close-up encounter that anything interesting happened, and though Ana would probably scold him for it, it was entirely Hanzo’s fault. 

He made it very clear what he wanted, his slimy tail coiling around McCree’s legs. That, combined with his dive weights, sent them gently floating toward the sand. 

Hanzo clicked his tongue, seemingly frustrated with McCree. He reached out and touched the part of Hanzo that looked human, tried nudging him away. 

Hanzo snorted a plume of bubbles, the rippling edges of his tail pressing against McCree’s thighs. They were a touch too close to his dick, which was beginning to twitch in interest. With the regulator in his mouth, McCree could hardly speak to tell Hanzo to move away. Not to mention,  _ he was underwater _ . 

The creature leaned close, his tendril-like hair fanning around them. McCree sucked in a nervous breath as they swirled dangerously close to his unprotected face. 

He pushed at Hanzo’s chest and shoulders cautiously, tried to move his legs but they were well and truly trapped by Hanzo’s powerful tail. There was something poking at his side and he very nervously looked down to find two...fuck, they were probably fucking penises. 

Only they didn’t look human—not surprising, given that Hanzo wasn’t human at all. He had two cocks that McCree supposed was somewhat phallic-shaped, shading from dark navy at their base to pale, fleshy pink at their tapered tips. Like his dark blue tail, it had golden accents and looked strangely slimy even underwater. 

They emerged from some kind of blue-lipped slit at roughly the appropriate place where one would find a penis on a human male’s body, and there were other waving tendrils at the base like the fronds of sea anemones. 

Hanzo patted down McCree’s belly, strangely clumsy with his clawed hands. They pressed against McCree’s dive suit and McCree could feel it in his fucking  _ bones _ when they began to slice through the material. 

Despite his lower half appearing like an enormous nudibranch, it seemed that Hanzo was a predator. Not that he didn’t know this before, given that he had bribed Hanzo with fish, but it somehow felt strange to see it so confirmed. Even with the new danger, McCree’s mind raced to come up with possible prey for Hanzo. Perhaps those dangerous claws were ideal for slicing through blubber in seals or cetaceans. 

The marks on one of his arms—a strange form of asymmetry that McCree attributed to culture rather than true biology—and beneath his eyes seemed to glow with a metallic shine. Hanzo bared his double-row of needle-sharp teeth as his claws made tatters of McCree’s dive suit. 

It was by some pure miracle that McCree’s skin wasn’t similarly shred to ribbons. 

If the mating practices of Hanzo’s people was anything like the mating practices of flatworms, those strangely-shaped cocks would literally try to stab McCree in a way that he knew would not be fun. 

Hanzo’s deadly claws traveled over his dive belt, tearing through it with ease; borne by his dive weights, it immediately sank to the sand and Hanzo followed the movement with a jerk of his head that sent his hair-tendrils swirling dangerously around them. 

His clawed hand continued to pet at McCree’s belly, traveling lower past his belt. McCree held still, terrified that those too-sharp talons would cut something delicate—that the slightest move would have him losing the family jewels. 

Then Hanzo turned back to McCree, his wild eyes intense with a terrifying kind of hunger. He dug his claws in—so very deliberately—into the wetsuit covering McCree’s dick and it fell away, allowing his half-hard cock to spring free. 

McCree made a noise muffled by his regulator that sent bubbles scurrying to the surface. The cold was a shock against his warm skin, especially in so sensitive a place. Not to mention, he was fucking  _ terrified _ . 

The curious bastard took his eyes off of McCree and peered down at McCree’s cock, patting awkwardly at it. Clearly he was trying not to perforate it with his stupid long talons, for which McCree was thankful. 

He was suddenly very aware of a low rumble that was building like thunder and realized belatedly that it was  _ Hanzo _ making that noise, vibrating the water around them like whalesong. Hanzo looked very pleased with himself. 

_ Oh  _ fuck, McCree thought to himself. All of the gifts, the slow and careful patience in approaching—in Hanzo’s eyes,  _ McCree had been courting him _ . 

And it seemed that Hanzo was eager to consummate their courtship. He watched McCree with half-lidded eyes as the tendrils of his “hair” swirled around them. His whalesong-like vocalizations seemed to echo in McCree’s bones as one of those alien cocks  _ moved _ . 

As if they had minds of their own—as if they were the tentacles of some kind of short-limbed cephalopod—one of them patted awkwardly at McCree’s cock as if trying to coax it to play. McCree’s eyes were on the dangerous-looking frills at the bottom, swaying as if to some inaudible melody. He was terrified of them, nervous of their proximity. 

Little research had been done on creatures like Hanzo due to their intelligent nature—it was incredibly rude, to put it lightly, to ask for a subject for dissection. Which was why McCree was out here, interacting with Hanzo.

In short, McCree had no idea if those little flanges, reminding so much of nudibranchs and sea anemones, were toxic. 

There was the nightmare anemone after all,  _ Phyllodiscus semoni _ , that in rare occasions can cause acute kidney damage; or the  _ Actinodendron arboreum _ , the tree anemone or the  _ hell’s fire anemone _ —which can cause severe skin ulcers. 

Or perhaps, given his size in comparison to the typical sea anemone and the theory that he may be a predator, they were stronger. McCree already knew that he had paralytic ink from the times that Hanzo had darted away from him. 

As soon as the ink had been released, it seemed like every fish in the area had darted over, forming a rippling, shimmering, seething cloud of shining scales as they hurried to consume the “ink”. As soon as they contacted the cloud the twitched, fell still, and dropped slowly to the sea floor. 

At first McCree had been horrified—murder as a defense mechanism? Then he realized that about twenty seconds later, the paralyzed fish had sprung up—albeit rather sluggishly, as if they were hungover—to swim away. 

It was temporary at least, but did McCree really want to find out by getting stung on the dick?

Hanzo leaned close and bared his too-sharp teeth in a terrifying approximation of a human smile. His two cocks—and McCree  _ really _ hoped they were cocks at this point—patted at McCree’s. 

Then, in a sudden motion that sent McCree’s heart into his throat, they fucking  _ unfurled _ into eight more little tendrils, four each, which then twined around McCree’s exposed cock. One curled around the shaft beneath the head while another tickled the very tip of his cock, playing with the foreskin. As if jealous, another joined its companion and toyed with his urethra, making McCree whimper nervously. 

How he was still slowly hardening beneath the creature’s attention, McCree would never know, though he supposed that Hanzo was being gentle enough. And though he was fucking terrified that he was about to be stung somewhere sensitive, it felt...good.

(Though there were questionable ethics about fucking the subject of his study, he couldn’t deny that he rather like the idea and was rather enjoying this encounter thus far.)

One of the little tendrils slipped beneath his wetsuit and brushed at his balls; another patted at his hole and McCree nearly choked as he came. Hanzo’s rumbling changed in pitch and suddenly the water around them was grey. 

_ Ink _ , McCree realized as numbness settled into his limbs. Hanzo seemed unbothered by it, his cocks twitching and writhing. Then, looking at the way that Hanzo’s face had contorted, his eyes half-lidded and fangs bared, it dawned on McCree that he had  _ come _ . 

_ Perhaps the muscles to ink were connected to the muscles to ejaculate? _ A small part of him wondered. The rest was consumed with panic as Hanzo uncurled himself from around McCree and watched him slink, paralyzed, toward the sea floor. 

Hanzo seemed to come to some kind of conclusion. He darted toward McCree and grabbed him beneath the arms. Then, pumping and undulating his shining tail, they zoomed off into the sea. 

* * *

The two-legged creature was a strange one, Hanzo mused to himself as he took the paralyzed diver back to his lair. And he was good fun. It was a good thing that he hadn’t decided to abandon the area when McCree had first arrived. 

Then he wouldn’t have such a pretty new toy. 

The two-legs needed air to breathe, but that was not an issue. The issue was keeping him from escaping before Hanzo was done with him. 

It took little effort to squeeze them both into Hanzo’s cave home and to find his favorite pocket of air for his favorite collections. He stored his new toy there and carefully removed the strange materials that let him breathe underwater. 

McCree would not need those anymore. Just to be safe, Hanzo hid the gear and climbed into the dry shelf next to the diver and watched as feeling slowly came back into his limbs. There was more fun to be had with his pretty new mate, after all.


	6. Reverse Cowboy + Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: reverse cowboy with a mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings**: anal sex, mild choking/breathplay, mirror sex, reverse cowboy position, mentions of flogging

“Ride ‘em cowboy,” McCree laughed as Hanzo gurgled. He pulled on the rope looped around his fist and Hanzo wheezed, his back arching beautifully. McCree closed his eyes and groaned as Hanzo clenched up as he struggled for balance, to keep from falling backwards with the pull of the rope. 

He turned his head to look at the mirror positioned beside their bed, his eyes lingering on the beautiful arch of Hanzo’s back and chest, at the way the little jewels in his barbell piercings caught the light. 

“Maybe I should’ve chained ‘em together,” McCree mused, releasing the tension on the rope around Hanzo’s neck to let him catch his breath. “Maybe put some bells on them to hear them ring, hm?” 

He ran his free hand over Hanzo’s trembling thighs, staring at their contrast in the mirror. Hanzo’s skin was flushed with raised welts from the crop McCree had run up and down his thighs earlier. Even that soft touch was enough to make Hanzo jolt, his thighs jumping as the calluses of McCree’s hand rasped against his tender skin. 

“Come on,” McCree coaxed, watching Hanzo’s chest heave in the mirror. His leg was blocking McCree’s view of Hanzo’s pretty cock and the way that it strained against the rope ring that kept him from coming. “Let’s see how you ride.” 

He adjusted the hat on his head and patted Hanzo’s thigh. “Come on, now.” 

Hanzo took a deep, shuddering breath, and gathered himself. Then slowly, slowly, he began to move, lifting himself up and letting himself sink slowly back down. Groaning low in his throat, McCree watched the bulge and tremble of the muscles in Hanzo’s thighs, watched the shimmer of the piercings in Hanzo’s nipples. 

McCree laughed, tugging on the rope still wrapped around his hand. Reminded that it was there, that the threat of being yanked back on McCree’s cock again, Hanzo whimpered, cast a helpless, pleading look at McCree. 

“Giddy up.” Shuddering, Hanzo began rocking his hips again. 


	7. Over the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: rough oral sex, Minotaur McCree and Bunzo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on [IchigoWhiskey's](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) series [Over the Moon](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1123791119836491777)
> 
> **Warnings:** rough oral sex, some dirty talk, rabbit shifter Hanzo, Minotaur!McCree, bratty Hanzo

“You’re such a brat,” McCree snarled, his tail lashing. “I got a better use for that sassy mouth.” 

Urging Hanzo’s mouth open—not that Hanzo needed much encouragement once the damn brat saw that he was getting what he wanted—McCree rubbed the bulbous tip against the pink flash of Hanzo’s tongue. 

Hanzo made a frustrated noise, his long ears flicking. He made as if to speak, to admonish McCree for being so slow and stupid, and that was when McCree chose to rock his hips in, shoving the wide tip of his cock into Hanzo’s mouth. 

The rabbit shifter grunted in surprise but then couldn’t speak as McCree bucked his hips, filling his throat. Hanzo choked, his throat working deliciously around McCree’s cock. McCree grinned though Hanzo couldn’t see it. 

“Ain’t got nothing to say now, huh?” he taunted, pushing his cock deeper into Hanzo’s throat just to feel his throat clench up before slowly pulling back just enough for Hanzo to breathe. McCree laughed when he felt Hanzo’s rough breaths and felt his tongue lapping at what he could reach. 

He reached down and tipped Hanzo’s head back, tugged him to the edge of the bed so that his head hung off, his long ears drooping. “Keep your mouth open,” he warned with a rough laugh. 

Resting a hand on Hanzo’s throat—lightly, just to feel the way it bulged—McCree began thrusting. Hanzo’s legs kicked in surprise, his throat clenching as McCree pushed the thick tip of his cock past his gag reflex. 

“I like this sound out of you the best,” he laughed, adjusting his stance to get more out of each thrust. “Not so much of a brat, now, hm?” 

He looked down at the smooth arch of Hanzo’s body, at the way that his legs were spread to brace himself against McCree’s jarring thrusts. Hanzo’s cock lay hard and leaking against his belly. 

Slowly, McCree pulled out and grinned at Hanzo’s ragged breaths. His mouth lay open, lips flushed and wet with spit and just to make him messier, McCree slapped the tip of his cock against them like some kind of seedy porno. 

Unlike some seedy porny, Hanzo scowled up at him as much as he could as he struggled to catch his breath. 

“Open up,” McCree told him. “Ain’t done with you yet.” 

Hanzo’s mouth dropped open, his head falling back and just to be difficult, McCree shifted to keep his cock just out of reach. To his surprise, Hanzo chased after it, arching his neck and back to try and get his lips on McCree. 

“You like that, don’t’ya?” McCree asked with a laugh. “Is _ that _ why you’re such a prissy little shit all the time? You just want a big, fat, bull cock shoved in your throat?” He didn’t give Hanzo a chance to answer, shifting his hooves to better brace himself for long, steady strokes that buried him to the hilt in Hanzo’s clenching throat. “All you gotta do is ask, sugar. I’d be more than happy to fill your throat anytime you like.” 

He’d love to fill _ other _ things as well, but he didn’t dare say things yet, not until he knew where he stood with Hanzo. From the way he gurgled and choked around McCree’s cock, from the way that his fingers dug bruises into McCree’s thighs, he didn’t think that Hanzo would complain _ too _ much. 

Sighing, McCree pulled his hips back to allow Hanzo a chance to catch his breath. He reached down and tapped the tip of his cock against Hanzo’s lips again. “Open up, sweet,” he said as Hanzo scowled at him. 

This time as he hilted himself deep in Hanzo’s throat, he leaned down and wrapped a hand around his leaking cock. Hanzo jolted, throat clenching around McCree. His thin whine—all that Hanzo could get out with his throat stuffed full—made McCree grin.


End file.
